hungry.

His wife is a rather handsome pampered slattern, well fed and in
the prime of life. She has nothing to carry, and has a stout
stick to help her along.

MEGAERA (suddenly throwing down her stick) I won't go another
step.

ANDROCLES (pleading wearily) Oh, not again, dear. What's the good
of stopping every two miles and saying you won't go another step?
We must get on to the next village before night. There are wild
beasts in this wood: lions, they say.

MEGAERA. I don't believe a word of it. You are always threatening
me with wild beasts to make me walk the very soul out of my body
when I can hardly drag one foot before another. We haven't seen a
single lion yet.

ANDROCLES. Well, dear, do you want to see one?

MEGAERA (tearing the bundle from his back) You cruel beast, you
don't care how tired I am, or what becomes of me (she throws the
bundle on the ground): always thinking of yourself. Self! self!
self! always yourself! (She sits down on the bundle).

ANDROCLES (sitting down sadly on the ground with his elbows on
his knees and his head in his hands) We all have to think of
ourselves occasionally, dear.